The Night Before The Next Web
It’s the night before The Next Web conference in Amsterdam. I’ve come along to have a listen the various speakers who’ll be delivering keynotes during the four day event and – seeing as my return flight is scheduled for Friday – having a nose around the city on Thursday night. I see as it a photo-opportunity.
This is the second work-related trip I’ve been on. They are in some senses quite bizarre experiences.
To a certain extent, the brief is quite broad and the expectations quite low. Exactly the kind of trip I like in that I can do something strikingly different from my day to day work and – hopefully – in the process learn stuff.
The first learning point for me was a painful reminder that I’m not as good at hotel bookings as I’d like to think I am. I always feel uncomfortable about relying on our team assistant to ‘make the bookings’.
I have the charge code myself. I’m a 38 year old (almost) and should be able to do such mundane tasks myself. Why should I have to sully a colleague’s working day with asking them to do such tasks. Possibly because they know what they’re doing and because of that they’ll ensure that when they book a room, they’ll also ensure breakfast is included in the rate.
Watch this space. I have a call in with the accommodation service at the BBC. We’ll see what transpires. I hope to God I don’t have to hand over my credit card at the end of the week. I don’t want to have to claim it off expenses.
Once I’d fought off fairly unexpected feelings of loneliness – really, only a few hours away from the home environment with it’s cats and the Significant Other and I can go to pieces – I settled myself down to my second burger of the day in the nearby Mynt Burger.
In between noting down what sessions I wanted to blog from tomorrow – Nick Halstead’s session on ‘real-time being the future of news’ looked interesting – I was pretty bemused to see a group of men emerge from one *those* coffee shops, stand on the street and light-up.
A city famed for its relaxed policy on smoking dope and yet clientele are forced to heed the smoking laws outside the presmises. What has the world come to?